


Blood, brothers, and broadswords

by CandidCuriosity



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Attempt at Humor, Blood and Injury, Brothers, Cyborgs, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Sarcasm, Stabbing, Swords, or at least a metal arm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-29
Updated: 2016-03-31
Packaged: 2018-05-24 00:41:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6135574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CandidCuriosity/pseuds/CandidCuriosity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Damian gets caught off guard by a new gang trying to make a name for themselves in Gotham by killing a Robin. Only they do it on the Red hood’s turf and whatever Jason’s relationship might be with his family, his not going to let a Robin die, not on his watch.</p>
<p>Or in which Damian cares, Jason bleeds, and is there a sword wielding cyborg? Yes there is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. violent deaths of butterflies

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: the characters belong to DC comics  
> I apologize for any or all grammatical errors in this text.   
> Or incorrect use of medical procedures or facts about the human body.

It was a surprisingly clear night and Jason was perched on a roof top surveying the city below him. This was his part of Gotham, and it was finally a bat free area. He had worked hard on getting it this way. He had even made a deal with oracle about it; it was a mutually beneficial business deal. She keeps him updated on the rest of Gotham, while at the same time keep the bats updated on his actions. Of course she could only report what he allowed her to, sure she could report his actions but not his intension. It was a good deal, or it served its purpose of keeping all the bats at bay.

They had some kind of truce going on, Jason did not try to actively kill or hurt his former family and they left him in his own corner of the city or did not actively try to spoil his plans. And for a while the only times the Red Hood saw a black cape it was on TV or some lunatic dressing up and being way out of his league. Well that was until they, mainly the robins and batgirls, decided that they had left him alone for far too long and he was apparently no longer a imitate threat. Or that was the only reason Jason could find for the resent bat activity on his turf.

It was starting to get on his nerves; he had a good operation going on. During the months the Red Hood had run the area, crime rates had dropped significantly. There were less drug lords, less human trafficking, and murders never spiraled into serial killings. Then, on the other hand there was less convictions and more graves, because when you step into the Red Hood’s line of fire you don’t step out, you paint the walls with your brain.

And now when he had finally stopped having to gun down scumbags every night, and he could go weeks without killing, the bats had started to show up. A flash of a cape around a corner, a bat shaped throwing knife in a wall or run away transitions caught in his radio feed, reviling snippets of conversations about a case one of them was working on. Something big was going on and apparently it was going down in his area. 

Jason’s relationship with the bat family was to say the least, complicated. When he came back from the dead he did not come back the same as he had been. He had made his family realize that the hard way. He had been filled with rage, hate and that special brand of Lazarus pit crazy. But he did no longer want Bruce and the others dead; his goal now was to make them see that his way of cleaning up Gotham was better, preferably with as little contact with them as possible. Hell was that too much to ask? well apparently it was.

Someone was moving on the street below him.

It was the new player in the smuggling business the Red Hood had been keeping an eye on for the last week and tonight he was not alone. Because who else was following the smuggler then the demon child currently in the position of the Robin title. Damian, Bruce Wayne’s biological son, shit Jason almost felt sorry for the kid. But Robin is never alone. A soft foot step behind him confirmed as much. The Red Hood backed away from the ledge and slowly turned to face the new comer.

Nightwing stood a safe distance away on the other side of the roof, hands put in an appeasing gesture. The Red hood took the safety of his gun with an audible click.

“And here I thought we had a good thing going, I stay out of your hair you stay out of mine”

“Jason, please put down the gun I’m only here to talk to you” Dick said, careful to only look at the red helmet not the weapon aimed at his head.

“Why are you on my turf when there is oh so many places I’m sure you could be, so why don’t you take your bats and go away” Jason growled back, not letting go of the gun.

“We need your help with a case, so why don’t we work together?” Dick looked down right hopeful.

The hood was quite a few moments in what can be describes as mild shock, and then he laughed and laughed until it took a slight hysterical tone. Not loud enough to tip off the ones on the street, mind you, he was a professional after all.

“You want my help with a case? Why Dickie bird, you need to kill someone? Daddy bats put away your toys?” Jason chuckled, sheltered his gun and walked away. “Work your case and get the hell away from my streets”.

A week went by and after taking down a couple smugglers dealing in children the bats disappeared again. It probably would have taken longer if not Jason gave his file on the kidnapers to Barbara, of course it was not to help them as much as it was an opportunity for Jason to get a weekend off. And no he was not monitoring the come link he had hacked into, well not regularly. It was not like any serious happened anyway, who was he to care if the smugglers fought back a little too much and Robin almost walked away with one less functional kneecap? What is a flesh wound to someone who has been trained by the league of assassins? Nothing much apparently as Robin was back on the streets two day later, looking as smug as ever only limping when he thought no one was looking. Too bad there’s always someone looking in Gotham.

It’s hard getting away from your family when you are in the same city, and Jason knows he could just as well live out his life on some paradise island or clean up the streets in some other crappy city. But Gotham is his as much as it is Bruce’s and it’s here the Red hood got to be.

Gotham may be a crappy city but it is under his protection for better or worse and no kid is going to get killed on Jason’s watch, and that includes the demon spawn.

He should have known something was up the moment he realized Damian as alone and on his side of the block. He observed from a roof top as Robin was cornered by a gang all twice the kid’s size and armed to the teeth. They were apparently aware of Robin’s injury as the first thing they went for was his injured leg. They beat him up until he stayed down, something that took an impressive amount time considering the kid was like ten. The Red Hood did not interfere firstly because if they had wanted to kill Damian, they would have shot him the moment he was caught, and secondly they looked way too organized to just be a street gang, no this was the work of a new gang. A gang on his turf, going after a Robin.  

They took the kid to a warehouse at the end of the block near the docks, and Jason was surprised to see that this was not your average abandoned warehouse but it was actually in use, by a flower company. Seeing that, what was inside should not surprise him but he did not think anything could prepare him for what was inside. First of all, there was a shit ton of flowers, and Damian was tied up and surrounded by at least 10 to 15 men. Although there were only about 5 of them that carried guns, there were a lot of them. They were all standing there between piles of soil and racks full of house plants listening to a man Jason figured must be the leader. The leader had some kind of robotic arm and was that a broadsword? Yes, that was definitely a sword, only in Gotham.

And apparently but not so surprising the sword wielding cyborg had one hell of an ego, as he was currently telling Damian how Robin was going to die by his sword and the rest of the heroes would follow until he ruled Gotham with his sword and his robotic arm and bla bla something about robots and knights. Whatever, good thing the Red Hood was not a hero then. A hero would have stayed in the shadows, figured out a plan and called for backup. Jason figured he had been in the shadows for too long already and he could easily take out these guys, robot arm be damned. Besides, with an assassin trained robin it was going to be a walk in the park, or at least that’s what he told himself when he jumped out from behind a box guns blazing.

The Red Hood took as many guys as he could before they realized what the hell was happening. No head or chest shots in front of the kid, he had learned that the hard way, but lots of busted kneecaps and heavily bleeding flesh wounds. In the confusion that followed after he shot some of the lights, he got Damian and managed to drag him behind some big bags of soil. Jason tried not to think of the smell, because soil is just a synonym for dirt and dirt and the smell of dirt make him think of graveyards. And that’s a trail of thought he really did not want or had time to go down right now.   

“Are you supposed to be up this late? Don’t you have school or something?” Jason cut the roped holding Damian’s hands and legs, earning him a glare. This brat such good manners it was shocking. Really.    

“I can take care of myself just fine!”

“oh really! Did I spoil your plan to get killed by a cyborg with a freaking broadsword?”

Damian scowled at him and huffed, but did not offer any explanation for his solo mission. Something that didn’t really surprise Jason, because the kid was as mentioned an A-class brat.

They took down most of the rest of the underlings in a matter of minutes after that. Robins always made up one hell of a team. Although Jason was only a former (failed) robin, and Damian used a bit too excessive force and there was a bit too much assassin in his fighting style. Something Jason just knew must irk the old man.

After the short but surprisingly coordinated fight, the only ones left standing in the flower filled wear house was: Jason and Damian on one side, and the sword wielding cyborg as well as two heavily armed guards, on the other side.  

“What do you say about making this quick so we could all go back to our own business?” 

“Trust me when I say that it was not my intention to make this ‘my business’ or yours, Hood”

“Whatever you say, demon brat, whatever you say” Jason gave the short vigilante a smirk under his helmet (one that could be heard in his voice by no doubt).

“Let’s just make this quick, okay?” Jason surveyed the scene, his guns would certainly be more effective against the sword and the cyborg’s would easily get the upper hand in hand to hand combat. The kind of combat robin utilized. He might as well engage the boss and let the brat take the underlings, solely on the principle that Nightwing, Red Robin, and Oracle would all kick his ass if he allowed the kid get hurt under his watch.  

“I shoot at the maniac with the broadsword and you use your ninja skills on the scumbags over there, deal?”

“tt” Damian rolled his shoulders and took out more batarangs from his utility belt, “don’t get stabbed”

“well, I will certainly try, baby bird”.

The following events proved several things:

Firstly, Damian was no where near healed enough to go on solo missions fighting guys twice his height.

The first underling fell like a bag of dirt after getting hit by an expertly executed ninja move. That however, gave the second underling just enough time to catch Damian off guard and this time Robin would not get out with a functioning knee cap. The guard shoot the kid before Damian could as much as turn towards the armed man.

Secondly, regardless of past, present, and unavoidable future actions, Jason still cared about his brothers.

On the other side of the room, Red Hood was trying to blow the drug smuggling cyborg’s head off. Trying being the key word as the cyborg was on hell of a good swordsman, and deflected every shoot Jason could get at him.

Damian’s scream when the bullet tore into his leg, made Jason forget his own opponent for a moment. No robins were allowed to die on his watch. Red hood turned just in time to see the second underling take aim on Damian bleeding form on the floor. He shoots the guard in the head, out of pure reflexes, before the guard could put one in the kid’s head, on purpose.

In retrospect, Jason had done the same thing all over again if it meant saving Damian, even if that meant taking his eyes of the god damn metal arm coming towards his throat.

As soon as he got of the shot and that saved Robin, Jason felt metal fingers closing around his neck and slamming him into the closest wall.

The sound that Jason’s head made when it connected with the concrete wall was a sound he would remember for months to come.

However, if the sound of his head colliding with concrete, shattering the back part of his helmet, was going to be hard to forget, the next thing that happened would find itself a special place in both boys’ nightmares for years to come.

The gang leader held Jason still against the wall with his robotic steel hand, and with the other hand he raised the sword

and stabbed it through the former robin’s chest.

The blade slid in between his ribs, impaled his right lung, cut through the muscle in his back and penetrated the concrete wall. Pinning Jason to the wall like a live butterfly. A severely bleeding butterfly with a perforated right lung quickly filling up with blood.

Jason felt nothing at first. He just could not get around the shock of actually getting stuck to a wall with a broadsword. And he was just about to get really fucking mad at the universe, and everything that had had a hand in getting him to this situation, when he started to chock on the blood filling his right lung and pouring into his windpipe.

He spurted and coughed, trying to breath around the blood with is one good lung. When he finally began to register his surroundings again he zeroed in on three facts. A, his chest was on fire, nearly distracting him from the fact that; B, the steel hand was no longer around his throat, and C, this meant that the only thing keeping him up-right was the sword stuck in the warehouse wall. And if he didn’t get his legs working nothing but gravity would slice his chest in half.    

On the other side of the room robin was struggling with the concept of his sort of brother being impaled with a medieval styled sword, only momentarily of course. He was after all a professional, used to gruesome scenery and more then capable to neutralize the threat.

So when the overconfident gang leader was focused on hooded vigilantly at his mercy, Damian ignored the pain in his injured leg grabbed the gun from the dead underling beside him and shot the criminal (the threat, the man hurting his brother) in the leg. Twice.

Only when the thug went down and let go of Jason did Damian realize what that would entail for the impaled vigilante.

Jason grabbed for the sword, the wall, the metallic arm anything really that would keep him standing. He could feel his legs giving out from under him and every time he moved the pain intensified. Every breath felt liken he was tearing his lungs apart, and he probably was.

Damian’s leg was screaming at him as he made his way as fast as he could towards the Red Hood. Cursing the trail of blood, he left behind him across the floor.

The hood was gasping, desperately trying to stay still and the current robin could only imagine the pain. But he had to focus; Jason was bleeding out and the worst thing that could happen was if Jason lost consciousness while still pinned to the wall.  

Blood was pouring down Jason’s neck from underneath the red helmet, and he was probably going to chock and suffocate on the blood coming from his mouth if the helmet stayed on any longer. It had cracked from the impact with the wall and Damian managed to remove it relatively easy when he reached Jason. The problematic brother was clutching at him and Jason was shaking hard from exhaustion and pain. But at least he seemed to be able to breath a little easier without the helmet obstructing his air.

Damian was relived to see that Jason had decided to wear a red domino mask underneath the Red Hood. So he would not have to worry about anyone seeing the Red Hood’s face, well that was only a problem if the rouge bat actually survived the night.

They had made him stay at home. For his own safety they told him, but to Damian it sounded like they did not thought that he was strong enough. Batman had grounded Robin, and because of what? A wounded leg. He could work with worse injuries; hell he had gone on patrol with a lot worse. Why could they not just trust him.

So Damian had gone out on his own. He had been just fine until they caught him off guard and used his injured leg against him. And now Todd was bleeding out and Robin could not save him alone.

The blood coming from the older man’s chest and mouth was soaking Damian’s gloves and cape. One of his legs were useless and the other was shaking from pain and blood loss. Todd’s breathing was slowing down, would removing the sword kill him? Damian didn’t even know if he could get it out of the wall.

He had to call for back-up. He needed help, they needed help, and time was running out.    


	2. Running out of time

He had to remove the sword, there was on other way. But the chance of Todd actually surviving that would be slim at best, no should he call for back up first? Would Grayson or Drake get there in time? He did not have his comm-link. Did Todd have his? Damien did not know and things were starting to blurred at the edges of his vision. What was the possibility of things getting worse?

_Beep beep beep_

 The only sound that could actually make the situation worse came from the not dead, but definitely unconscious, possibly dying, gang leader on the floor.

A bomb counting down. Not only was the crime boss’s arm made out of metal, it was apparently also a bomb. Only in Gotham.   

The realization that they were going to bet blown up spurred Damian into action. This was not the day they die. Again.

His injured leg was screaming at him telling him he had to get out here right now, or lay down on the floor and simply give up because the situation was getting ridiculously dangerous considering that the night had started out relatively good. A notion that was ridiculous in itself considering a busted leg had no business telling him what to do, and he had gotten out of far worse situations in the past. Although this was the first time he had to save his good for nothing brother from getting blown up, bleed out, and possibly die from drowning in his own blood.       

Todd was still breathing and semi conscious when Damian decided what to do. They had to get out, there was no time to consider the consequences of what happened next. He simply grabbed the sword with one hand and placed the other on Todd’s unharmed shoulder, and with his functioning leg he pushes of the wall. Hard. The sword comes out of the wall and subsequently the former robin’s chest in one swift motion, and with a sound Damian was going to try really hard to forget.

Suddenly they were on the concreate floor, correction: in a pool of blood on the concrete floor. The pool in question was growing with an alarming rate with every beat of the red hood’s heart. There is not time to stop it, they have to get out of the building before it goes up in flames. But Damian could barely walk and Jason is not going anywhere on his own. He begins putting as much pressure as he dares on the sword wound, ignoring the fact that there’s most likely an equally bad exit wound, as he reaches for the comm-link still in hood’s ear.

Grayson better be near by.

Nightwing and Red Robin is drinking coffee on a roof top when Nightwing gets the call. They had been doing their usual patrol rounds around the city. Staying far away from red hood’s hunting ground. Dick figured that it was best to leave Jason alone for a while, since they had just worked a case close to and sometimes in the red hood’s territory.

It had been a quiet night. And if you were as cynical as Tim liked to portray himself as, it was too quiet. Something was up he could feel it. Dick just laughed, said that they should be thankful for a little down time and suggested they get a coffee.

“Robin to Nightwing, do you copy” the feeling that something was really wrong came over him like a tidal wave the moment he registered the words. Why was Damian calling him on a line usually only used by Jason?

“Robin? What are you doing out of the cave?” Dick could feel Tim tensing up beside him at the mention of their smallest brother, this was not going to end well.

“we need back-up as soon as possible, lock on to the signal from this comm-link and get here now” Damian sounded out of breath and exhausted. Shit, Damian usually never lets anyone perceive him as weak, no unless it is really bad.   

“what we? What is going on?” before the current robin could answer they were already running along the roof tops, Tim searching for the location of the call.

“Red hood has sustained fatal injuries, I am wounded, and there is a bomb” the line went silent for a second, “please hurry”. Dick could feel the panic growing in his chest.

“Red robin! do you know where they are?” the look on Tim’s face when he turned to him made the panic blossom and take hold.

“they’re on the other side of town, we might not make it there on time”

The older man’s breathing was getting alarmingly shallow as the clock continued to count down to zero. A scenario not too unfamiliar to the former robin, a fact Damian has made a point in not thinking about. Just as he refrained from thinking about how hard it had become to stay awake. He could hear every beat of his heart like a drum his ears, and feel every beat of his older brother’s heart in the fading pulse under his hand.

He reached into his utility belt and took out two adrenalin shoots. The first one he used on himself, feeling his head clear and his vision sharpen, the energy would only be temporary but he had to believe that they could make it out.

Damian stabbed the needle in Jason’s heart and hoped that the stabbed man still had enough blood left for it to have any effect. There was.

Jason was thrown into consciousness with the feeling that his chest was going to explode. He rolled to the side and throw up even more blood then he had previously coughed up in an attempt to clear his air ways. It kind of work and as he sat up strait it relived some pressure from his lungs, or lung because one was definitely not working.

He stared at robin before him, Damian looked tired, huh. No not relevant. What the hell was going on again? No wait it was coming back to him; blood and pain, swords, the possibility of dead robins, and more blood and pain.  

“Holy shit, are we in a Tarantino movie?”

“tt” Damien was apparently not hurt enough to stop being a brat, “we are going to get blown up if we do not get out of here now” he was however, hurt enough to let fear show on his face. And Jason was aware enough to feel a bit irritated about the fact that he might get blown up. Again. Well he had to admit there were worse way to die, but on the other hand there were a lot better ways too.

“I was starting to wonder when that was going to happen again”

Damian frowned, Jason tried to laugh because damn this was going to be painful, and then they began to crawl towards the nearest exit. All while followed by the sound of the clock. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> an update yay! idk i had either too much or too little coffee when writing this...


	3. sing a happy song

_Sing a happy song, sing a happy song, why don’t you sing along, sing a happy song, come on clap along sing a happy song_

“I will not”

_come on sing a song sing a happy song come on clap along…_

“Todd!”

_sing sing a happy song shit what even is the rest??_

A hard slap echoed through the empty warehouse.

“Fuck, what was that for?” Jason would have held his hand to his stinging cheek if he had the energy to, which he really had not.

“I will not sing with you so stop!” it was amazing how irritated and bratty robing could look considering the amount of pain he was most likely in.

“I was singing? Huh” Jason used the temporary stop in their agonizing slow crawl towards freedom to rest his head on the dusty industrial floor. Was singing a symptom of blood loss? Or had he gone directly from ‘shit we are going to die’ to ‘I don’t fucking care man I want to sleep’ phase of dying because he don’t think he have gotten quite this far before. He was so fucking tired, he could not even muster up any anger for getting blown up again.   

“Yes you were, now shut up.” Damian said with finality, if Todd wasn’t even aware that he was singing a demented song used in a ridiculous movie about a murderous schizophrenic who kills women on the command of his cat and in the end toga dance with Jesus. Then Todd was at the end of his rope (blood supply).

“Mm whatever you say, demon brat, whatever you say” came the muted reply, the hood was now face down on the concreate floor, creating yet another pool of blood.

“We are at the door, almost outside” an undertone of concern had entered the younger boy’s voice, he looked back towards the still body of the gang leading cyborg with the soon to explode explosive attached to his arm. “so don’t you dare fall asleep, the bomb will explode any minute now”             

Jason forced his face of the concrete surface and looked up, and there was the damn door. Finally.

“Speaking of which, how come we’re not already dead? I mean for how long have the clock been counting down now anyway?” they were not exactly fast and the blood trail behind them was impressively long, who the hell sets a bomb to count down for several minutes. Like he was pretty sure that it had taken them a grate deal of minutes to get this far, and they were still alive.  

“I do not know; neither do I care” responded the exhausted Robin.  

When Damian pushed open the door and dragged the red hood the last distance out of the building they were welcomed by absurdly good weather. The sun was coming up over the horizon, lighting a perfectly clear sky scattered with retreating stars as actual birds could be heard singing in the nonexistent vegetation.   

“Oh what a day … What a lovely fucking day” the former robin said closing his eyes against the sun beams hitting him in the face, looing deathly pale with blood coating the better part of his face, neck, and chest. Blood that was still slowly leaking from the wound on his chest and back. He had lost the feeling in his legs half way through the warehouse and he was well aware of the fact that he should feel the pain from his wounds, but he didn’t anymore. The pain was still there but he just didn’t have the energy to feel it anymore, or it could just be that parts of his brain was shutting down due to shock and blood loss. Either way he could feel his time running out.  

“Come on, just being outside will not do anything against an explosion” the blood loss was getting to him as he had to concentrate to think, Damian tiredly thought as they began to crawl yet another stretch of distance coating the ground red in their wake. In front of them was small concreate building that would have to due to protect them from the blast.

Jason had a hard time staying awake, he just would not stop bleeding, and he was hardly breathing now. Damian cursed as the older man stopped moving mere meters from the corner of the shelter. He gritted his teeth and hauled his older brother around the corner, propping him against the wall, and had just enough time to curse Grayson and Drake’s uselessness when the warehouse went up in flames.

The whole building exploded in and inferno of flames and debris flying in all directions. The shock wave shook the wall the former and current robin was covered by. Heat radiating the whole area as the fire roared and a second explosion shook the ground.

 

* * *

 

Nightwing and Red robin had soon realized that they were further away then they had first anticipated when they had talked to the injured robin. The were both breathing hard as they finally spotted the warehouse and stopped for a second on the adjacent roof top. Trying to catch their breath, and gain control of their ever increasing panic.

Then several things happened.

Dick sent a confirming message to Alfred that they were close and the butler should stay ready with medical support in the cave. Or come and get them in the bat-mobile, because the first robin had the distinct feeling things were going to be bad. And he was not wrong.  

Tim spotted movement away from the warehouse and had just enough time to confirm that that was indeed Jason and Damian crawling around a corner. They were alive, covered in blood yes, but alive. Tim allowed himself a fraction of a second to relax. That proved to be a mistake.

As the air suddenly tore itself apart.

The explosion engulfed the whole area, and threw them back and down hard on the roof, skidding several meters. Unbearable heat washed over the two bats and the air once again split as a second explosion thundered. Flames liking the blue sky.  

 

* * *

 

 

Damian curled himself around his brother as hell raged around the corner. Desperately trying to calm his breathing as he clutched Jason’s too still, too cold, too bloody, form. He could no longer feel the tearing pain in his knee or his throbbing head. All there were was the deafening explosions, his own loud heart beats in his ears, and Jason’s blood slowly soaking him to the bone.

Damian was breathing too fast.

Jason was not breathing at all.                     

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The lyrics in the beginning is from the O’jays – sing a happy song, that is used in the movie Voices (2015), staring Ryan Reynolds. 
> 
> Which I can recommend if you want to watch a fascinating borderline absurd movie, it is good tho.  
> I don’t know why I choose this particular song, but it really sticks in your head (and if you know the context from the movie, it’s the perfect song to sing as you feel your life slip into a path you might to want it too, and sarcasm and irony are concepts to live for)


	4. please don't let it be too late

The proximity to the raging fire burned through the fabric of his Nightwing suite as Dick launched himself of the building. Free falling was one of his guilty pleasures (what guilt?) but he felt no joy what so ever at the moment. He barley had time to fire his grappling hook to lessen the fall before he landed hard on the asphalt. The smoke was so thick now that he could almost not distinguish his injured brothers against the brick wall no more then ten meters in front of him. So close, they were so close.  

His ears were ringing. His chest and back were hurting from the blast and rough landing on the roof. Dick distantly registered Tim landing beside him, shouting something into the receiver of a phone.

Damian and Jason. Fire and blood.

Please don’t let them be too late.

As Nightwing barely took time to breath before getting up and off the roof, Tim had to take a second to _think rationally._ It was not the first time he had to take the role of the logical and at times cold brother, and it won’t be the last. If the others keep this up. Never mind if they do keep this up they would die and he would become a single child, again. Huh.   

Tim calls Alfred as he follows Dick down from the building, from his phone as the explosion busted his comm-link. He distantly thinks about how he has to do something about the durability of the comm-links, they are after all in a lot of explosions.  

“Alfred we need the bat-mobile asap” he’s aware of the fact that he could be shouting, his ears still recovering from then bombs.

“The car should arrive any minute now, master Tim” come the ever calm and collected voice of the butler. “I took the liberty to stack it with medical supplies” what would they ever do without Alfred?

“should I call master Bruce, sir?” shit, Tim had almost forgotten that Batman was not in Gotham at the moment and that was why he and Nightwing was covering double patrols as Robin was suppose to be grounded. Well that worked out good now didn’t it, like always.

Bruce had grounded Damian and then went out on a covert operation with the league, that meant that they could not contact him until the mission was over, shit shit shit. What if one of tem died? Who would tell Bruce? No, this was not the time. Hopefully it would never be the time, which sounds awfully naïve for a crime fighter to say (if it wasn’t for the fact that Tim at times thought and hoped it would be him that died next and did not get back up)    

Red robin started to reply but stopped. He was now close enough to see the scene in front of him though the smoke and ashes filling the air.

Jason, lying still on the ground on his back, and covered in blood. His own blood. Tim can see the crimson trail leading from the burning inferno that once was a warehouse all the way up to his brothers. Damien was at the moment laying flat on Jason’s chest, clutching the sides of the older man.

Damian was so small, and Jason was so _so still_.

Tim had to stop himself from going to them as Dick did. He has had a lot of training, Tim has had a lot of training in _stopping, quelling, killing, conquering,_ that feeling, that pure instinct of uncontaminated panic that comes when your brain makes the connection between ‘ally’ and ‘death’. Tim has lost a lot of allies, but it is still not too late. _Not yet._

Dick threw himself to the ground much like he threw himself off the roof, he was not thinking as he reached out to touch his brothers. One hand on Damian’s back and the other on Jason’s neck.

Robin: breathing fast and hard. The Red hood; not breathing period. Dick almost gave in to the feeling of unorganized, emotion filled, uselessness at that moment. Fortunately, he does not have the time to when the bat-mobile suddenly comes to a screeching halt beside them. There is action and there is death. You have to choose.

Nightwing detaches Robin from the former Robin’s chest, still bleeding chest, and nearly throws Damian in to Tim’s arms, who promptly presided to place the younger in the front seat before getting in the driver’s seat.

Dick lifts Jason of the ground and lays him out in the back seat of the car. Dick was try not to think about how cold the other man was, as he got in beside him and Tim started driving towards the cave.

The medical equipment in the car can only be of so much help. The moment Damian lost conscience in the seat beside him, Tim’s heart speed up. The care can drive by itself on autopilot. Damian groans in pain in his sleep but Tim can’t bring himself to care he has to stop the bleeding, the blood still coming from the wound in his brother’s knee. He does his best to help with the bandages they have in the car, but Robin needs a blood transfusion. And judging from the muffled cursing coming from Dick in the back seat, Jason needs a whole blood bank.

Transfixed by the work of saving their brothers it is only the violent stop of the car in the cave that alert Dick and Tim to the fact that they’re home. Safe, home is safe.

They are greeted by not only Alfred but Leslie is also hurrying towards them. Dick wants to simultaneously slap himself for not contacting Dr Thompson, and kissing the butler for bringing her. They need her. The wound in Jason’s chest is, in loss of more eloquent wording, really fucking scary. And way out of their medicinal league.

No one that can stand on their own gets any sleep that morning, day, afternoon, or night.

 

* * *

 

 

It took nearly twelve hours before both Jason and Damian were stable enough for anyone to leave the cave, or even remotely relax. Jason’s heart stopped multiple times, and every time it was like the air had been sucked out of the room. And every time his brother’s heart began beating again Dick felt like he would burst out in tears. But he stayed strong, he was not the one dying all over again, he was not the one a knee that might never heal right.

Because there was a moment a long horrifying moment when Leslie could not promise that Damian was going to be okay. And that would break so many things.

But no, Damian was too strong to let a bullet to the knee clip his wings. And Jason was too stubborn to let a stab wound keep him from protecting his part of the city.

Strong and stubborn could be used interchangeable with those two. And all of them knew it as they watched the sun rise. Through the surveillance cameras displayed on the screens in the cave, none of them was going to leave until Jason had gone at least three hours without flat lining… 

In the end Jason really stabilized and began reacting well to his treatment and could finally begin to heal.

However, he did not wake up.

In the beginning Leslie had kept him under just so his body could recuperate from the blood loss and massive trauma. And even though no one admitted it, they all felt a little better knowing that Jason, if even just for the moment was not in any pain. 

It took three weeks for Jason to come back to the world of the living. Metaphorically speaking. 

Bruce had come back a few days after the incident.

They had taken up calling it the incident after Damian nearly pulled his stiches in an attempt to go after Tim, after Tim had called it “Damian’s monumental fuck up” and questioned the younger’s discipline and or loyalty. If noting else, it was a sign that things were getting back to normal.

Having Bruce coming back from the mission to find all of his sons under one roof, only to then find out that one was practically comatose and the other almost crippled, had brought all kinds of broody/angsty/at times sentimental moods sweeping through the manor. As one can imagine with Bruce being Bruce, and Bruce’s relationship with Jason being what it is.  

 

* * *

 

Exactly tree weeks after the incident, Damian made his way with the help of his cursed crunches into Todd’s room. It made him angry that it was so hard, that his leg still hurt so bad, that his stupid good for nothing brother was still, was still

Was still not awake and he had, he had things to say.

Grayson had tried to explain that they should be grateful that Jason was even alive. And that Damian should be proud of himself for managing to get them out of there. Which was utterly ridiculous considering it was his fault that they were in the warehouse in the first place.

It was his fault. His fault and he had things to say, dammit.

The window was open and a light breeze made the curtains flow into the room, obstructing the rays of sunlight. It was still too early for anyone else to be up. The sky was blue, the birds were singing.  

 

“so say them, nothing’s ever stopped you before now has it?” 

The young Robin froze in place.

There was a feeling in his chest, growing, expanding, wanting to burst open,

relief.

“I am glad you are not dead, and for assisting me though you had no obligation to”

Jason huffed a tired quiet laugh, alive he was alive. Safe, they were both safe. 

“Fuck obligations, I’m happy you’re okay baby bird”

“tt”

Damian could finally breath again. 

* * *

 

_Sing a happy song, sing a happy song, why don’t you sing along, sing a happy song, come on clap along sing a happy song_

“no”

“aw come on!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Done! Yay! Sorry for the wait! 
> 
> I just want to use this space to say that I absolutely love the emotional response I’ve gotten in the comments! Thank you all for reading and all the kubos!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!   
> Kubos make me happy, comments are appreciated!


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